


Post-Traumatic Legilimency Disorder

by Cantatrice18



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Legilimency, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-World War I, Pre-Canon, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8697337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: The end of the war finds Queenie working in a hospital for returning, injured wizards. Despite Queenie's insistence that she can manage, Tina goes to her new boss, Percival Graves, to request a favor.





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s a delicate matter, sir.”

Tina could feel herself shrinking under Percival Graves’s gaze, but she forced herself to hold her ground. Finally Graves motioned with his wand to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit,” he instructed, and she obeyed at once. “This matter, it concerns you?” he asked. “Your position here?”

Tina shook her head quickly. “No, sir. It’s my sister.”

“Sister?” Graves raised his arched brows. “I was unaware you had a sister. Younger or older?”

“Younger, sir. Queenie Goldstein, she works at a government hospital for returning soldiers.”

“I see.” 

Graves was still examining her closely, saying nothing. Tina braced herself. “Sir, I’d like to ask if there might be a job for her here, at MACUSA, away from those who’ve seen combat.”

Graves sighed. “Goldstein, you know as well as anyone that jobs are scarce, particularly now that the war has ended and those who fought in it are back home. It sounds as though your sister is lucky to have work, and from what I gather the hospital staff are paid well.”

“You don’t understand, sir.” Tina could feel desperation rising in her, and fought to keep her voice calm. “My sister isn’t like other people. She’s…empathetic.” Her eyes met his and she willed him to understand the meaning behind her words. Legilimency was legal, but most legilimens preferred to keep their power private, for the sake of their relationships with colleagues and friends. “She’s highly empathetic, sir.”

Graves blinked, then leaned forward in his chair, his brow furrowing. “Is she, now?” he said softly. “Naturally? From birth, I mean?” 

Tina nodded. “Always. She’s learned some control, but—“ she broke off, examining her hands as they twisted uncomfortably in her lap. “She’s most sensitive to people when they’re in pain. The images, the memories, she can’t escape them.”

“Of course.” Graves rested his elbows on the desk, his fingertips coming together. “And in a hospital situation…”

Tina nodded again. “She’d never complain, but I know how it hurts her. Those who fought in Europe saw terrible things, and my sister has to live every memory through them. It’s torture.” 

“Indeed.” Graves’s expression was one of understanding and pity. “I can only imagine, having served briefly in the war myself, how she must feel.” He leaned back quite suddenly, and Tina jumped. “I’ll do my best to find her a position, though I’ve no way to guarantee it will be a good one. I leave for Austria in a week, a short trip, but I’ll be sure to have my secretary be in touch when I have something for her to do.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tina breathed, her shoulders releasing some of the tension they’d held for weeks. “That’s such a relief, you have no idea.”

Graves smiled at her, and she felt herself blushing ever so slightly. “I like you, Goldstein,” he remarked. “You’re observant, thorough, and you’ve got a stubborn determination that will serve you well. I look forward to watching you work.”

Blushing furiously now, Tina gave an awkward half bow and left the office. Percival Graves was a legend, the youngest head of department ever, and one of the most accomplished, despite his age. Other women gushed over his good looks, but Tina admired his keen mind far more. That he thought so highly of her seemed impossible, yet she’d heard him say the words himself. More importantly, he’d taken her seriously enough to listen and understand the reason for her odd request. She had faith he’d find another position for Queenie, someplace safe, with boring stacks of papers and perhaps a bespectacled old wizard for a boss. Anything to stop her sister’s nightmares and take away that awful, deadened look in her eyes. If Graves could do that, he really would be her hero.


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly midnight when Tina heard the door to the apartment open, brass hinges squeaking. She looked up from the magazine she was reading (The Weekly Conjurer), to find her sister standing in the doorway. Without a word Queenie crossed to the bedroom, giving no indication that she’d even seen Tina, her eyes staring blankly ahead. Tina rose and shut the door, locking it firmly, then tiptoed to the bedroom. Queenie was sitting on her bed, her head bowed, her shoulders sagging. Tina went and sat beside her, wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulders. Close up, Tina could see the tears gathering in her sister’s big green eyes. “It’s alright, dearest,” she murmured. “You can cry.”

Queenie gave a choked laugh. “I know I can, but can I stop?” Their eyes met, and Queenie turned towards her sister, leaning into the older girl’s embrace. “They hurt so much,” she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of Tina’s sleeve. “They had to watch their friends die, there was nothing they could do, and all of them feel such guilt and pain and sorrow.”

Tina stroked her sister’s hair, her hand trembling. Her conversation with Graves kept nagging at the corner of her mind, but she refused to think about it. Queenie didn’t need to know what she’d done, not until something had come of it. She hoped with all her heart that Graves had understood the urgency of the situation. She didn’t know how much more she could stand, watching helplessly as her sister became more and more downtrodden. There was only so much a witch could take before she was broken beyond repair.


	3. Chapter 3

Tina took the final bite of her morning toast, savoring the sweetness of the strawberry preserves her sister had managed to find at some hole-in-the-wall market or other. Queenie always had a knack for finding treats and bargains other people couldn’t, partly due to her legilimancy, but also due to her vivacious personality and natural curiosity. The thought of her sister made Tina glance over at the half-closed door to their bedroom. “Nearly ready?” she called.

The door swung open to reveal Queenie, dressed in a dark green satin blouse and tweed skirt, her hair in perfect waves, tiny gold rosebud earrings twinkling in the light. “How do I look?” she asked, twirling in a circle.

Tina lifted an eyebrow. “Lovely, and you know it.”

“I do!” Queenie cried, full red lips breaking into a gleeful smile. “Just a few more touches, and I’ll be ready.”

Tina sighed and went to stand in the doorway, watching as her sister applied perfume and another coat of lipstick. “We’re going to be late.”

“A witch is never late,” Queenie responded airily. “Not if she’s dressed well enough, anyway.” She glanced over at Tina and her movements slowed, her playful expression fading to be replaced by an odd look Tina had never seen before. “I know it was you,” she said quietly.

Tina blinked and took a step backwards, nearly bumping into the doorframe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, hurriedly clearing her mind.

“Talking to Mr. Graves about me.” Queenie smiled, a genuine smile full of warmth and love. “You’re the best witch I’ve ever met, you know, and the best person, too.” She crossed to stand in front of Tina, resting a soft hand on her shoulder. “I would have survived.”

“I know,” Tina admitted. “You’re stronger than people think. But now you don’t have to.”

“No, I don’t.” Queenie hugged her sister tightly. “Thank you. I’ll never forget what you did.”

Anxious to escape the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, Tina ruffled her sister’s hair. Queenie broke away with a squeak of annoyance, quickly pulling out her wand and redoing the perfect blonde waves. “We’ve got to go,” Tina insisted, taking her sister by the hand. “Now, before the morning rush makes apparating impossible.”

Queenie nodded, stowing her wand and taking her sister’s arm. “Lead on.”


End file.
